


The Truth Between Us

by flipflop_diva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cunnilingus, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, F/F, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Oral Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 05:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: The relationship between Hermione and Pansy has never been simple. But in the middle of a war, when true intentions are hard to discern, it’s even more complicated that anyone would have expected.





	The Truth Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for DW's ayebydan's lovely prompts _mid war fic_ and _Pairing meet up during the war and discuss why no one can know because everything is bigger than them._
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Hermione?” Luna’s lilting voice sounded in Hermione’s ear, and Hermione turned around to see Luna being twirled past by her father. “There is someone out by the gate who wants to see you.” 

Hermione didn’t even have time to get out a “Who?” before Luna and her father were lost amongst all the dancers whirling around the tent.

Hermione looked around. Almost everyone they knew was here, at Fleur and Bill’s wedding. Who could possibly have a need to see her at this hour of night and on this day? For a moment she wondered if it might not be a trap, but no, Luna would not trick her like that. There had to be someone outside, and so, even if her judgement would otherwise have disapproved, she slipped out of the tent and made her way into the chilly night air.

She would have recognized the figure anywhere — she _did_ recognize the figure anywhere. The girl was standing in the shadows, the light of the moon making her nothing more than an inky black shape. Hermione’s heart gave an extra beat despite herself, and she sucked in her breath as she moved closer.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered into the night air, her voice barely carrying over the sounds of the laughter and the music from the tent behind her.

“Are you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” The figure in front of Hermione stood up straight and came toward her. The light of the moon caught the side of her face, and Hermione could see the other girl’s dark penetrating eyes, the sway of her hair against her face.

Hermione felt herself stand just a little straighter at the words, her head lifting just a bit higher. Her voice, though, came out much more choked than she intended.

“Am I going to leave without saying goodbye?” Hermione asked, and she did not even try to cover the bitterness in her tone. “You are the one who said I was nothing but a fling and not to be concerned with.”

Pansy stepped closer. Hermione could smell her now, that unmistakable scent of lavender mixed with something that always reminded her a cool breeze.

“Don’t be dense,” Pany said. “We were at my parents’ home. You think my parents haven’t been listening to everything I do? You think if my parents knew how we really felt that they wouldn’t send any Death Eater around after you? They would sooner cut my head off than be happy I’m dating someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Hermione echoed, and an ache she thought had once vanished swelled back up inside her chest like a giant balloon. “If you feel that way …”

“You know I don’t.”

“You could have fooled me.”

They stared at each other. The ache in Hermione’s chest was getting bigger. Tears stung the corner of her eyes. She wanted to hate the girl in front of her. She _should_ hate the girl in front of her. It would be so much easier if she did hate the girl in front of her …

“I have to go,” Hermione whispered, and she didn’t know who she was trying to convince. “This was wrong. It was always wrong.”

Pansy reached out, grabbed Hermione by the wrist. Hermione felt the slide of cool fingers over her own, and then she felt something drop into her palm.

“It was never wrong,” Pansy said, and then she leaned forward, her lips meeting Hermione’s.

Hermione couldn’t help it. She moaned into the kiss, her hands coming up to wrap around the girl in front of her, winding into the dark hair, tugging on her to bring her closer.

Their lips dueled, their breath mingled, their fingers clenched around the other tightly. And then Pansy was pulling away. There was a loud bang. And then Pansy was gone.

Hermione looked down, finally checking to see what was in her palm.

A coin. The same one Hermione had magicked for them back at Hogwarts. The one they used to meet up in secret in the dead of night.

A sob sprang up, got stuck in Hermione’s throat. Her eyes burned again.

Maybe …

But it was too late. Inside the tent, people were screaming.

•••

It was harder to be away from Pansy Parkinson than Hermione would ever have thought possible. Especially because she, along with Harry and Ron, had a mission at hand, and she had always been extremely focused when it came to her work. But at night, when they would sleep inside the tent and listen to the howl of the wind outside, she couldn’t seem to turn off her mind, and the memories would come pouring in no matter how hard she tried to keep them out.

_Pansy’s dark hair was tickling her bare chest as Pansy’s lips attacked every inch of bare skin between Hermione’s breasts and the top of her legs. Pansy’s fingers were holding her by the hips, her thumbs making gentle circles on her skin._

_Hermione’s eyes were closed, her back arched up, the throb between her legs growing more intense by the second. She wanted Pansy to just get down to it, but she also wanted to savor every second of Pansy exploring her body, leaving tiny kisses and little bite marks as she trailed south._

_Pansy didn’t disappoint. She kept up her way-too-slow pace, nicking and licking and then — ohhhh — Hermione gasped as Pansy’s fingers finally reached between her legs and spread them apart, finally touched her where she wanted to be touched, finally slipped inside her and Hermione moaned at the feeling of a part of Pansy inside her, stroking her deeply, making her feel whole._

_Pansy moved her mouth down a bit more, laved her tongue over Hermione’s clit and Hermione felt her whole body jump like she had been shocked with electricity. Pansy added a second finger and looked up, resting her chin on Hermione’s upper thigh._

_Hermione opened an eye, peered down to see Pansy studying her._

_“What?” she said to Pansy, not quite concentrating on anything but the feel of Pansy’s fingers moving faster now, scratching at her walls._

_“Nothing,” Pansy said. “Except thinking I’m going to miss this.”_

_“Miss this?” Hermione echoed. Her brain tried to piece together what Pansy was saying, but the connections weren’t quite there. “Why would you have to miss this?”_

_Pansy snorted, and this time when Hermione caught her eye, her body chilled. Gone was the look from just seconds before — that lazy, lustful, almost adoring look. Back was a look Hermione hadn’t seen since they were young children. A cold, hateful look of someone who knows they are better than someone else._

_When she spoke, Pansy’s voice was as cold as her expression._

_“What?” Pansy said. “Did you think this was something serious?”_

_Everything warm drained out of Hermione’s body._

_“Oh, stupid girl,” Pansy said, and here she laughed, a short, derisive laugh. “How could you ever think you were anything more than a fling?”_

_Pansy ducked her head again, bit down hard on Hermione’s clit. As Hermione shuddered through her orgasm, all she could do was close her eyes and try not to cry._

Hermione’s eyes flew open. Once again, she couldn’t sleep. The same dream — the same moment — had been haunting her ever since she, Harry and Ron had Apparated away from The Burrow.

 _”You think if my parents knew how we really felt that they wouldn’t send any Death Eater around after you?”_ Pansy had said that night.

But how did she know what was real? The Pansy who had spent the last few months fucking her in various corners of Hogwarts and telling her not to open her damn mouth about it to anyone? The Pansy who lay curled around her more times than not after the sex was over, wondering aloud if maybe they should just tell people and their reactions be damned? The Pansy that looked at her so, so coldly that night in her room as she told her she was always just a fling? Or the Pansy who had come looking for her the night before she knew Hermione was going to head off with Harry and Ron to kiss her goodbye?

And that had been bothering Hermione too. Hermione had told her something she never should have told her, and the wedding that night had been attacked. Had Pansy betrayed her? Had she told someone?

But would she have come to say goodbye if she had? Why would she care enough to do that if she had been the one to turn her in?

Hermione didn’t know. She didn’t know the answers to any of it. All she knew was she couldn’t sleep and she couldn’t concentrate, and if she couldn’t get out of her own head, she was going to get them all killed.

•••

She finally told Harry the truth. She had almost gotten them killed. They were lucky to have escaped Godric’s Hollow with only a broken wand.

“I’ve been seeing Pansy Parkinson,” Hermione confessed to Harry that night. She waited for the anger to spread across his face.

“Huh,” he said instead, like she had just told him some trivial fact about the weather and not that she was sneaking around with a Slytherin who had always been so derisive of them.

She stared at him.

“You think we didn’t know you were seeing someone?” Harry said, then he shrugged. “Though I’ve got to admit, I thought it was Daphne Greengrass.”

Hermione didn’t even know what to say, so she told him about the night the wedding was attacked.

“You don’t believe her?” Harry said when she finished her story.

“I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know which part of her is real.”

“Maybe they’re all real,” Harry suggested.

“No.” Hermione said.

“Why not?” Harry said. “You didn’t want people to know either. You said yourself it was just a way to blow off steam at first. But now you love her.”

Hermione blinked. An uneasy feeling settled over her. “I don’t … I never,” she said, and for a moment she felt lightheaded as she processed his words. Did she love Pansy Parkinson? No, that could not be possible.

“That coin she gave you?” Harry’s voice was speaking. Hermione tried to pull her attention back to him. “Does she have one too?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “The one she gave me was mine.”

_Pansy pulled her fingers out of Hermione and sat back on her heels, looking down on her, her face still pulled into a sneer. Hermione had never felt so exposed in her life. Shame colored her cheeks as she realized her legs were still spread wide open, her thighs coated with her own arousal and Pansy’s saliva._

_As soon as she was able, she sat up, pulling her legs together and tucking her feet underneath her. Her head was still spinning. Was it possible she misinterpreted something?_

_Pansy was getting up, yanking a shirt down over her small breasts. She peered over at Hermione as soon as she was dressed, any warmth that was once in her eyes a distant memory._

_“Best be getting out of my bed, Mudblood.” She tossed her hair as Hermione felt her whole body flush in shame and hurt. “You’re no concern to me anymore.”_

_She turned around, practically flouncing out of the room. Hermione listened, but the girl’s footsteps grew fainter on the tile hallway outside the door. Tears finally spilled over the edges of Hermione’s eyes, dripping down her cheeks. She barely managed to climb out of Pansy’s bed, to pull her cloak back over her naked body. The outfit she had worn earlier — the one she had picked out so carefully because she thought Pansy would like it — lay scattered in pieces across the room, where it had fallen as Pansy had undressed her._

_She didn’t have it in her to care about the black lace underwear or the matching bra or the red camisole she had worn over it. She had to get out of there and never come back._

_She Apparated, dropping to her knees on her own bedroom carpet a few seconds later, sobbing harshly into her hands._

_It was only later she realized she had also left her purse at Pansy’s but that too did not matter. The only thing in it had been the enchanted coin they had used to meet up across the grounds of Hogwarts, and that was one thing she was never going to need again._

“You want me to contact her?” Hermione stared at Harry. She had not expected this at all. Maybe the stress of trying to find You Know Who was getting to him, maybe he had hit his head harder than she realized when they had tried to escape from Godric’s Hollow.

“How will you ever know the truth if you don’t talk to her?” Harry said.

“I know the truth,” Hermione replied hotly, but that was a lie, and both she and Harry knew it.

She dug the coin out of her enchanted purse that night, held it between her fingers in the dim light of the tent, staring at it as the minutes ticked by and the tent grew darker and darker and then lighter and lighter until daylight dawned again and she hadn’t slept a bit. Even if she did use it, there was no guarantee Pansy would answer. Why would Pansy keep an enchanted coin from someone she never cared about?

Except Pansy had given it back to her. Had purposely pressed it into her hand.

Hermione’s mind landed on a new thought. A new terrible thought. What if Pansy had cursed the coin, or tracked it? What if she wanted Hermione to use it so she could inform the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters of where she and Harry were at? What if it all had been a massive trick?

What if it hadn’t? What if it had been real? What if the nights at Hogwarts in the prefects’ bathroom, where they bared their souls, had been just as they had seemed at the time — two very different girls realizing they weren’t as far apart as they had always been led to believe.

Hermione wavered. She remember the night up in the Astronomy Tower when Pansy, out of nowhere, had snogged her for the first time.

“Tell anyone and I’ll curse you so badly you’ll never see your true face again,” Pansy had said afterward, before giving away just a hint of a smile and snogging her again.

She remembered the first time in the prefects’ bathroom, the room lit by only a single candle. Hermione had sat on the edge of the swimming pool, Pansy between her legs, her hands running over Hermione’s bathing suit, stroking her hips and her belly and her breasts.

“Let me see you,” Pansy had whispered, and Hermione, visibly shaking, had nodded. Pansy had reached up, pulled the straps of Hermione’s bathing suit down her arms, then helped Hermione slide the garment the rest of the way down her body, revealing first her breasts, then her stomach and then the part of her she had never shown to anyone else.

“As beautiful as I had expected,” Pansy had whispered, and then she had shown Hermione a magic she had never experienced before, bringing Hermione to climax over and over, with fingers and tongue and even her wand.

The next night Hermione slipped back into the prefects’ bathroom, terrified that instead of Pansy she would find a crowd of leering Slytherins, berating her and mocking her and ready to spread her shame around the school. But instead she had just found Pansy, floating naked in the pool and waiting just for her.

That had all been real. It had, right?

Hermione clenched her fist around the enchanted coin in her palm. There was no way, she reminded herself, that Pansy could have made a plan all those months ago to seduce her in the hopes of being able to track Harry Potter over the summer. Hermione hadn’t known then where she would be now. Harry hadn’t known then where he would be now. How would Pansy have known?

But what if something happened after they left Hogwarts? What if Draco had gotten to her? Or her parents? Or You Know Who? Or anyone?

What if? What if? What if?

Hermione’s hand unclenched from around the coin. She stared down at it. Harry thought she should use it.

She wanted to use it. She did.

But she also was terrified of what she might find out if she did.

•••

She Apparated back to the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow. It was risky to come back. If anyone was waiting for them to retrace their steps …

But it was also the safest place she could think of. Why would anyone expect her or Harry to return? 

She pulled the enchanted coin out of her pocket and took a deep breath. If Pansy didn’t respond within a few minutes, if the Sneakoscope Harry had handed her started to go off, if she just felt like something was wrong, all she had to do was drop the coin on the ground and Apparate back to the forest. Harry was waiting for her three miles from their tent, wearing the Invisibility Cloak. She’d duck under it, they’d Apparate to another area of the forest and then they would slip through the trees, still wearing the cloak, until they returned to their campsite.

It was a solid plan, Hermione reminded herself. They had taken all the precautions necessary.

She lifted the coin to eye level, held it between her thumb and her forefinger, and then pointed her wand at it.

 _I need to know why you came._ The words spelled themselves out in tiny text around the edge of the coin as it glowed in Hermione’s hand, the cool metal heating up as she held it. Somewhere, far away, the coin’s match was doing the same thing.

In the distance, a bird chirped. A faint breeze blew a leaf down the street. Hermione forgot to breathe as she waited. For something. For nothing. She didn’t know.

And then:

_You were the only person I didn’t have to pretend around._

Hermione stared at the little words circling her coin. She felt like her brain had forgotten how to put synapses together.

The letters changed again.

_It wasn’t a lie._

And then the letters were gone, and the coin was cool. Hermione looked up and around her. That same bird still chirped. The same breeze still blew.

Everything was how it was.

Hermione Apparated back to Harry.

•••

She should have known that in the end they would wind up at Hogwarts. Not just because they should have known that the trail to You Know Who was always going to lead there but because their own trails were always going to lead there — to the one place it had all begun for all of them.

Hermione had kept the enchanted coin in her pocket since she had returned from Godric’s Hollow, always just a touch away. A reminder that maybe things weren’t always as they seemed.

There had been many nights she had thought about using it, about sending Pansy a message. Sometimes just to see how she was. Sometimes just to see how Hogwarts was. But she never did. No matter what they had grown to feel for each other, in this war they were on two different sides, and she couldn’t bear to find out something she wouldn’t be able to handle.

She tried not to think about Pansy when they finally arrived at Hogwarts. They had work to do, a Horcrux to find and destroy.

But the war was raging, and it was in the Great Hall, standing pressed against the wall as Professor McGonagall ordered students to evacuate that she finally saw Pansy, sitting amongst Draco and Daphne and Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table.

“And what if we want to stay and fight?” Ernie Macmillan was yelling from the Hufflepuff table.

Pansy wasn’t paying any attention to him nor to McGonagall. She was hunched over whispering something to Draco. Hermione didn’t think she had any idea that she was standing right there.

McGonagall was talking now. Hermione thought maybe she should listen, but just as she broke her line of sight with Pansy, a different voice echoed throughout the hall. 

“I know that you are preparing to fight,” the voice said.

Voldemort.

Hermione felt her stomach clench as students screamed. The voice continued, “Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight.”

The voice vanished. Silence fell. Hermione forgot about Pansy and stared over at her best friend.

And then something happened that she never would have believed if she hadn’t been there herself to witness it.

From the Slytherin table came a voice, loud and piercing. “But he’s there! Potter’s there! Someone grab him!”

Daphne Greengrass was standing up and pointing, her hand shaking as she glared over to where Harry was standing.

There was movement throughout the hall, as the entire Gryffindor table seemed about to rise to their feet, but before they could came another voice, one that Hermione knew as well as her own.

“ _Sit down_ , Daphne.”

“Thank you, Miss Parkinson,” came McGonagall’s voice. “Now, Miss Greengrass, you may lead your house back to your common room.”

The Slytherins all stood, the line of students following Daphne out of the hall, but Pansy wasn’t moving. She was looking directly at Hermione. And then she reached in her pocket and pulled out her hand.

It was just a flash, a quick gesture that no one else would have seen, but Hermione saw it. Pansy’s enchanted coin.

She felt her lips curve up just a bit at the sight, and Pansy nodded just barely before turning to follow her housemates. And for the first time in a long time, Hermione thought they just might make it through.

•••

She found Pansy just where she thought she would be. She was sitting on the edge of the pool in the prefects’ bathroom, her feet hanging down into the water, the edges of her cloak floating around her legs. There was dirt on her face and in her hair. One of her hands was wrapped in a bandage.

She looked as beat up as Hermione felt.

Hermione made her way across the bathroom, dropping down beside Pansy. They were both silent for a few moments, the only sound that of the water lapping in the pool.

“It’s over,” Pansy finally said.

Hermione turned her head to look at her. She seemed older somehow. More grown up. More weary. She wondered what she had been through the past year. The night outside The Burrow seemed a lifetime ago.

“I’ve missed you,” Hermione said, because there was too much to say and too little words and that came the closest to telling her everything she needed to know.

“I’ve missed you too,” Pansy said, and then she reached over, resting her hand on Hermione’s thigh, and that was all it took.

Hermione had her lips pressed against Pansy, had her hands wrapped into her hair. Pansy was pushing her back on the marble around the pool, yanking off both their cloaks and their dirty clothes. They slipped into the water together, their naked bodies entangled, lips dueling, hands stroking and touching and exploring. Pansy’s knee was between Hermione’s legs, and nothing had ever felt so good.

She came fast and she came hard and she made sure Pansy did the same.

They lay side by side on the edge of the pool when they were finished, their wet hair spread out around them, their fingers just barely touching.

“What happens now?” Hermione asked into the air. “Now that it’s over?”

“We figure it out,” Pansy said, like it was that simple.

“And if people don’t approve,” Hermione said, because that was a given, that people wouldn’t approve.

“We figure it out anyway,” Pansy said, still like it was that simple.

And maybe it was that simple. Maybe it could be.

Hermione moved her fingers, squeezed the ends of Pansy’s. She closed her eyes and breathed, content for now just to lie there, finally saying the only word that made sense:

“Okay.”


End file.
